Castles of sand at the end of time
Waiting to be built by your hands
To be destroyed on the next tide
No promises in creation nor plan
Stripped of guarantees
Some cling to solutions
Others sharpen how they see
Some expect life's fruition
And by virtue are never free
Few things are new under our daily sun
Old realities are forgotten new ones born
Sharing way too much in common
The same denial, the same norms
Stripped of certainty except in routine
Each of us a brief echo in humanity
Never accepting just how temporary
Begging for unrealistic guarantees
In a world built to the contrary
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